doe eyed boy
by buriiana sakurai
Summary: Sora looks at you, his too-pretty, azure eyes laced with endless concern…and the flames are quelled until they are a dull, miniscule, immortal aching in your heart. - soraxnamine romance/friendship/angst
1. Fate

; **disclaimers**: Kingdom Hearts, Square Enix.

; **&** you'll never forget the doe-eyed boy who said you could.

; doe-eyed boy

—»x«—

; **one**:

"Wow. You're a brilliant artist."

You were so concentrated, so wrapped up in your own musings, that you didn't hear him approaching. Didn't realize that whilst you were drawing beneath the pretty, little willow, he was peeking over your shoulder (oh the nosy, little thing.)

You look up, see him smiling radiantly, and your telltale-blue eyes quickly flick back down to your notepad in alarm. You're so tense, the charcoal pencil almost snaps beneath your iron grip. Crimson clouds must be creeping to your cheeks, your face feels hot. You know that if this curious, beautiful boy stays for a while, he will end up leaving you in the end. You are a worthless, lifeless doll-like girl, too horribly perfect it hurts—as mother dear always says—and you'll end up doing or saying something stupid, and he'll realize that you're not worth his time (what a pity.)

But…he is still watching, as if you are something _interesting_. You assume that perhaps the boy has forgotten his glasses at home…

You can feel his eyes burning into your back and you become frightened. What ever could he want with you? Warily, you glance back up at him, like lightning, so as he won't notice. He's still grinning that silly, lopsided grin of his. His teeth are pearls—and those wide, sapphire eyes; you become lost in them. Glancing like lightning has converted to staring rather _dumbly_, and you can't tear your eyes away.

You're drowning in the ever-blue sea of his eyes. Completely breathless. By the gods, dying has never felt so sweet.

He speaks, and you're roughly pulled to the surface by his honey-coated voice. "You okay?"

You take a deep breath. Your heart starts beating again. You realize that you are still staring and he is still smiling.

Blushing fiercely you look back at your notepad once again. "U-um, yes." You curse yourself for tripping over your words. Mother dear's voice echoes in your head, plaguing you like a fever you can't sweat out, "_Stupid Naminé…Foolish girl…Nothing but a bother—_"

"Well, um…Hi!" He catches you off guard again, thrusting his palm in front of your face. You nearly jump out of your snow-white sun dress, shivering like a sapling in a storm.

_God, Naminé, he only wants to shake your hand._

He assures you that he does not bite, nor does he have rabies, so you do—but reluctantly—shake his hand. As soon as your fingertips touch, you feel…_something…_And you _like _it.

"My name's Sora…" he trails off and looks down, russet eyelashes fluttering against his red-tinted cheeks. "A-and I think you're stunningly beautiful."

You look him straight in the eyes and smile.

—»x«—

**A/N**: to be continued...as a twoshot?

if you want me to (review) that is.

anyways, hope you enjoyed.


	2. Fleeing from the Witch

**Disclaimer:** Nope, I still don't own Kingdom Hearts.

**A/N:** Yes, I'm finally updating. I apologize for the ridiculously long wait, but after writing the first chapter over a year ago, I found myself struggling over what to do (how to continue) with the story. Thankfully, I have it all figured out now. I know exactly how I want to end it. I predict that the story will be four to five chapters long, surely no less than three. I really want to finish it because for some reason the plot I've formulated is very close to my heart, in addition, I've never written a story in second person, it's fun to experiment with. All in all, it's as if this fanfiction is begging to be written. I promise you'll love this story, please give it a chance _and remember to review_.

—»x«—

"At the fall of night  
Realize how much I miss you  
Move from dark to light  
I travel time to subtly kiss you."

Travel in Time, Kate Havnevik

—»x«—

You've only known dear Sora for two weeks, but he treats you as if you've been friends forever. He meets you everyday—under the pretty, little willow, that sprouts yards from the sea. Sometimes you talk and talk about nothing and everything, but sometimes you are silent, quietly relishing in each others' presence (until the sun begins to set—then, sadly, you must go home.) It all seems like a dream that you're fighting not to wake up from. You still can't believe the flawless, russet-haired boy favors your company so, that _he likes you_. Yes, dear, _he likes you_—and at the thought of it, you can feel yourself blushing.

When was the last time someone wanted to be your friend? It must've been before _he_, the other half of your soul whose name mustn't be spoken, died (but really, dear, _you killed him_.) The memories of _him_ and _**his blood on your hands**_ sweep into your troubled, little mind like wildfire, and you feel yourself beginning to _tremble_…but Sora looks at you, his too-pretty, azure eyes laced with endless concern…and the flames are quelled until they are a dull, miniscule, immortal aching in your heart.

Mother-dear doesn't know about Sora, and it makes you happy. She thinks that she's taken everything from you—your happiness, your worth, your love for life—but no, she's wrong. Now you have Sora, and he's a secret, an angel she can never take away from you.

The sun is beginning to set, and the reluctance in Sora's blue, blue eyes is clear. He doesn't want to say goodbye, but he does.

"Goodbye, Naminé." And he hugs you, as he does every time he says goodbye. And your heart skips several beats, as it does every time he touches you. "Tomorrow…?" he hopes aloud.

You smile softly, clutching your sketchpad to your chest (today you sketched the willow, beneath it a flaxen-haired girl and a cinnamon-haired boy, sitting side by side.) "Yes, Sora. Tomorrow." You promise.

"Alright," he lets out a held breath. "Goodbye…" but before he leaves, he takes your hands in his—and your fingers, _they intertwine and it's perfection_.

—»x«—

You stealthily slip into your house…but the creaking door (the damned thing) betrays you.

"Naminé…?" You hear Mother-dear's voice crooning from the kitchen. You smell something burning and you wrinkle your nose in disgust. Perhaps she's a witch and she's stirring a concoction in her cauldron, maybe she's going to cook you alive for retribution, for what you did to _him_ so many years ago—

"Naminé, sweetie! You're home, I was so worried," Mother-dear stumbles into the kitchen doorway, wielding a dripping wooden spoon and smiling madly. You are frightened and your stance is defensive, like a gazelle hopelessly cornered by a lion.

"Where have you been, darling?" she asks, clenching her hard jaw. Her poisonous, faux-sweetness coating her voice doesn't fool you, and your eyes warily fixate on the staircase…you wonder if you'd be fast enough to make it (before she'd have the chance to grab a fistful of your hair, like last time, and… )

She looks pale and sickly in the fluorescent light, her peroxide blonde hair (much likes yours, for the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, dear) looks snowy-white.

"I asked you a question, Naminé—" she grins toothily, and she smoothes the unkempt, white-blond hair from her pale face.

"—I was out with my friend!" you snap coldly. The anger that flickers in Mother-dear's crazed, gray eyes scares you senseless and you wish you could recall your biting retort…but it is far too late.

"Your friend," mother echoes. Shrieking laughter bubbles from her pale lips, and it sounds like nails on a chalkboard.

"But, Naminé, dear, _you have no friends_." Mother-dear claims bitterly, and her words sting like venom. She _would_ be right (if things were like they were before)—but she's so very wrong because now you know the doe-eyed boy, and he's your friend and—

"—his name is Sora, mother. I _do_ have a friend."

"_His_ name is Sora?" mother echoes angrily, and you know you've made a horrible mistake.

"My sweet Naminé has been _romping around with a boy_? You worthless, little…!" mother hurls the wooden spoon. It crashes against the wall inches from your face and bursts into an explosion of splinters.

You feel stinging pain and inhale sharply, cupping your cheek as scarlet leaks through your trembling fingertips. Tears well in your eyes of the sky (eyes identical to _his_, your other half you _slaughtered_ years ago.)

"_You whore_!" mother lets loose a bloodcurdling cry. You barrel out the front door, you must get away.

"Get back here, you worthless girl! You're nothing, you hear me? You're not half of what your brother was!" you hear her shrieking like a banshee as you run and run and run. "You murderer, you're nothing! He was everything; you'll never be what Roxas was!"

It's true, you know. Mother's words are true and they cut you like a thousand knives (it's a _wonder_ you can still run, dear, that you can _hold yourself together while you fall apart inside._)

Roxas, your twin, was _perfect_. You are nothing without him. He was everything and more. Mother had always loved him endlessly, much more than she loved you (but then you took his life, you killed your better half. Foolish, hopeless girl…)

It was an accident, a mishap, a disaster—but that doesn't matter. Roxas is dead (he's dead, and it's your fault.)

You can't stop the wildfire of memories now. It's spreading and you begin to tremble as you run. The world begins to spin—and your cheek, it hurts; the blood has spilled all over your little sundress.

As you push your weary legs to go on, you take a small, folded piece of paper out of your pocket—Sora's address. A field of a million doubts blossom simultaneously in your mind.

_What will he say? Will he help me?_

But you have nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to. And the flames are spreading, you're shaking uncontrollably now, you're drowning in yours sobs. Sora is the only one who can make the pain go away.

Before you know it, you're on the doorstep of his house—a pretty, cream and alabaster hued Victorian home; it looks like a residence from a modern fairytale.

If takes all of your strength, all of the courage you never had before to ring the doorbell…You close your eyes, let the tears streak down your cheeks, and the door slowly creaks open…

"Naminé…?"

—»x«—

**A/N: **Alright, here's a note to clear up any confusions. Roxas was Naminé's twin. A few years ago, an accident occurred and Roxas sadly passed away. Naminé is ridden with guilt and feels responsible for her beloved twin's death (in the next few chapters, you'll learn why.) The incident of Roxas's death understandably scarred Naminé, contributing to her insecurities and nightmarish memories of the event ("wildfire of memories.") In short, Naminé suffers from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and never received proper treatment.

Her mother also suffers from PTSD, but more so than Naminé (her mom is violent and freaking insane.) Her mother expresses her violence towards Naminé because when Roxas was alive, she obsessed over him, and due to her insanity, she feels that Naminé purposely and heartlessly took him away from her. Of course, she's wrong. It was an accident.

I'll be updating soon, I promise. Express any questions you may have in your reviews or please, feel free to message me.


	3. The Curse

**A/N:** Thanks a bunch for the reviews guys! They really made me smile!

Here's the next chapter, enjoy & review!

—»x«—

"Naminé…? Oh my God, you're bleeding," Sora's eyes fixate on your cheek and he brushes the wound gingerly with his fingertips. It hurts horribly but you bite back the hiss that wants to slip from your lips (idiot, look at what you've done; you've stained—corrupted—his pretty, tan fingertips with your ugly, dirty blood!)

"I'm sorry, so sorry…I'm sorry, Sora," you're murmuring his name like a mantra. He must be some sort of god, because every time you look into those (divine) eyes, the pain (the burning)—_it stops._

Suddenly, his hands are around your waist and he's pulling you inside the pretty Victorian home. "C'mon, we've gotta get you cleaned up." Inside, the house is warm and homely, perfect and clean—(nothing like the hellhole you live in.)

He takes you into a bathroom (the walls are warm and tan like his skin that you want to touch) and he helps you up onto the counter. You don't see what he pulls out from under the cabinet (because you're too busy staring at how nicely his long, shining lashes fall open his hallowed cheek as he lowers his eyes.)

But suddenly, those blue eyes are boring into yours—they look so much prettier up close, because now you can see the flecks of gold and silver and brown, drowning so hopelessly in the blue (and you're drowning in them, too, dear.)

He softly says, "This might hurt, Naminé," and he grabs your hand, your fingers weave together.

The medicated cotton pad he dabs on your cut does hurt, just a little (but it doesn't matter, because he's the one who's hurting you.)

"All right, I'm done…It'll take a while to heal, but at least now we know it shouldn't get infected—" he pauses and eyes you searchingly (your heart is in your throat, dear; be careful not to choke.)

"Naminé…you haven't stopped shaking since you came," his ghosts his hands over your bare arms and something in your stomach _flutters_ (I'm sure you're wondering what that was—you've never felt it before.)

"_Please_, tell me what happened," he pleads (how could you say no to those glorious eyes?)

You barely hesitate, because this is Sora and he's your only hope. "Mother-d—my mom, she did this to me…"

Sora's shocked, "Your own mom? But why? Did you get into a fight?"

"N-no, Sora…she just…_she hates me_."

"I don't understand, Naminé. I can't understand why anyone would hate you…"

You hug your arms around yourself, but you can't stop the trembling. "She's crazy, Sora. She's been crazy ever since…" (Now you've done it, dear…how will you tell him you killed your own brother?)

"Ever since what—"

"—I can't, Sora!"

"—Naminé…"

"—I can't tell you!" you jump off the counter and shove your way past him. You can't let him know, even if you have to go back to the witch's lair, you can't let him know. You'll take another night of beatings—so long as Sora doesn't know, so long as he'll still love you.

"—Naminé, wait—" before you reach the door, pretty Sora grabs your shoulder—and it hurts (it hurts like hell because Sora doesn't know that mother-dear made bruises there.)

"I can't tell you, Sora," you explain pleadingly, and the tears are springing to your heavenly eyes again.

"If I tell you, you'll surely hate me…please, let me go." (Yes, he should let you go. You'll gladly pay your retributions to the witch with more bruises and blood, so long as you'll see his face again.)

Sora's grinning, and you have no idea why. "Naminé," your name rolls off his tongue, and shivers bolt down your back.

"I could never, _ever_ hate you," his warm fingers tuck a flaxen lock of hair behind your ear. "Even if I wanted to, I couldn't hate you, Naminé. It's simply impossible, believe me," he pledges.

You stare at him breathlessly. "…But Sora—"

"You don't have to tell me now, Naminé. You can tell me later when you're ready, or you don't have to tell me at all. It doesn't matter to me…I just can't let you go back—if she's done this to you, I'm sure she's done it before…" Sora's blue eyes darken with anger. "I'm sorry, Naminé…But I can't let you leave. I don't want to see you hurt anymore."

"Sora…" you can't hold in the sobs anymore, so you let them out. You cry and cry and cry (_you haven't cried like this since you murdered him, dear_)—and Sora, he holds you (he holds you while you come undone, kissing your hair and whispering sweet nothings in your ear.)

—»x«—

You're swimming in Sora's shirt and shorts, but you don't mind. You're sitting in his room and he's stroking your hair as you sit and silence, because you're still too shaken to speak.

You feel like you're stuck in a dream, as if you'll wake up any moment to find yourself back in mother-dear's lair and to find Sora a nonexistent figment of your imagination. If this is a dream of sorts, you'd rather die than awake.

But he's alive and you can hear him breathing and his heart beating—and he's humming a song that you can't name—so mustn't he be real?

Your heart threatens to trip free from your chest when you hear a car pulling up outside. "S-Sora?" you murmur anxiously.

"It's okay, Naminé. It's just my mom, she's back from work."

"…I-I should leave—"

"—_No_…" Sora breathes passionately, and he's caressing your cheek and he's so close your breaths are mingling. You've never felt so dizzy; your whole world's spinning.

"I told you already, _you're not leaving_. Just…just stay here, I'll talk to her. She'll understand…wait here while I work things out, okay?"

You nod hesitantly. Sora flashes a lopsided grin, and when he leaves and his touch is gone, you feel so numb and cold.

You can barely hear him talking outside (you can only hear hushed murmurs because your heart is beating so damn loudly.)

But suddenly you hear them come inside the house—and Sora, he's laughing. And you hear a woman's voice—her voice sounds like music.

"Naminé, c'mere."

Your legs feel like lead but you manage to get up and leave Sora's room. He meets you halfway, at the bottom of the staircase, and when you reach the end he takes your hand in his (and it would've been something like a fairytale, dear, except you'll _never_ be a princess—murderers can't be royalty.)

Your pretty beryl eyes are glued to the floor when Sora leads you into the living room—and you can feel his mother's presence there.

"Mom, this is Naminé…"

A pause that seems like eternity follows…and you gradually gather the courage to lay eyes on your angel's mother.

Her eyes a big—the same hue of blue as his—and so very warm and friendly. She has the same cinnamon color locks. Oh, she looks just like Sora, she's so very beautiful.

And her smile—it lights up the room. "…Sora's told me so much about you, I'm so glad to finally meet you, Naminé…"

Once you finally reclaim your voice, you say, "…I-it's nice to meet you too."

She beams again and continues, "Sora's told me about your unfortunate situation at home, and I'd be glad to take you in." Sora squeezes your hand as she steps forward and pulls you into a warm, _motherly_ hug.

"Everything's going to be okay, honey. I promise," when she lets you go, she scrutinizes you briefly and smiles. "I can see why Sora couldn't stop talking about you. You're gorgeous."

You're blushing, and you glance over at Sora to see he's blushing too.

"Oh," his mother suddenly squeals, glancing at her watch. "I've gotta start dinner," and without further ado, she scurries into the kitchen, throwing you an apologetic smile over her shoulder.

You suddenly feel a warm, strong hand at the small of you back, and Sora is smiling at you.

"See? I told you everything would work out…"

He's close to you again—and for some reason you can't stop staring, something is beginning to click, the gears in your mind begin shifting.

"Naminé…?"

It's the depth of his blue eyes, the brilliant white of his teeth. It's his smile, his lips his nose, his jaw structure—

Before you know it, _you're touching him_ and he gasps beneath your fingertips…his cheeks, his chin, the seam of his lips—and by the gods, this can't be…

Now you know, now you know why you love him. Now you know why you're so hopelessly attracted to him, why he seems to be the center of your world (could the gods sentence you with a crueler curse?)

"Naminé? What's wrong? Tell me…what's the matter?" he's shaking you as your pupils begin to dilate.

"Roxas…?"

And suddenly it's paler skin and bluer eyes and shorter _blond_ hair and a deeper, darker voice speaking to you.

"Naminé…? _Naminé_!"

"Please, I'm sorry—I didn't mean to. It was an accident, I swear!" you're screaming now and the flames are beginning to blossom again.

Sora-Roxas' voice is growing fainter, and your eyes lids are suddenly so heavy (give in.) Suddenly, you're slumbering, drowning in darkness—

…and not even Sora's clear, blue eyes can save you.

—»x«—

So yay, Sora saved Naminé! :D

Have any comments/questions about the chapter? Review, review, review! I'll be updating again very soon! :D


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